The Cellar (The Cellar #1)

“What’s that?” I hissed.

“Just stay in here. He’ll want to see someone,” Poppy said and followed Rose and Violet out, closing the door behind them. I was alone. The soft light from the lamp didn’t do much to lighten the room. I wanted to turn them all on to make it as bright as possible, but I was too scared to move.

“No, no, no,” a new voice I didn’t recognize screamed, and a haze of fear engulfed me. Who was that?

“Shut up,” Clover bellowed. His voice ripped through the room with such force my heart leaped into my throat. I’d seen him shout before, but this was different; this sounded violent and angry.

What was he doing, and who was he shouting at? Everything went silent. I turned my head, angling my ear toward the door, wanting to hear more but not daring to move. My heart pounded in my chest. Was she going to stay down here too? Was she trying to fight back?

I licked my dry lips as I waited for something to happen. I couldn’t hear Poppy, Violet, or Rose talking, so I didn’t know what they were doing. A very small part of me wanted to be out there, so I would know what was going on.

A sudden crash caused me to jump and I scrambled back on my bed, pulling the cover up and pressing my face into the pillow. I felt like I did when I was home alone and heard a noise, only now the noise wasn’t in my head.

“Shut up,” Clover shouted again. His voice exploded, and he sounded so mad I pictured him with wide eyes and a red, rage-filled face.

The freshly washed bedcovers smelled of lavender—just like my gran’s. I pictured myself as a little child, lying in the middle of the king-size bed, puffy, feather-filled quilt up to my chin, breathing in the comforting smell as I fell asleep to her reading me a bedtime story. In my head I could pretend, but another piercing, guttural scream reminded me where I was.

He wasn’t hurting her; he couldn’t, not with Rose, Violet, and Poppy in the same room witnessing it. She had to be struggling to escape. He wanted her to stay down here and she was resisting. It would all be okay once he left and she was alone with us down here.

The annoying, nagging voice in the back of my mind was telling me if he wanted her to stay down here, he’d have a bed for her too. Everything was in fours. There was no place for her. But maybe he was going to make a place.

Like a few seconds ago, everything went quiet again. I couldn’t stand it. I hated not knowing what was going on, what he was doing, and, more important, where he was. I didn’t want him to come in here and see me.

Just leave her here and go. He left me as soon as he’d thrown me down the stairs and told Rose to explain what was going on. Why wasn’t he going? I lay perfectly still as I waited to hear something. My breathing was ragged and heavy, and I fought to control it so I wouldn’t miss any noise from outside.

I pressed my face into the pillow harder as the tension was threatening to consume me. My heart raced painfully fast and my hands started to shake.

A dull thud that sounded exactly like the time Henry leaned back too far on his chair and fell over. We all rushed upstairs thinking he’d fainted or something. Was that what I’d heard? A person falling? I gulped, whimpering as my mind tried to force me to see the things I didn’t want to see. Everyone was fine. Something was dropped. In a minute, I would hear the cellar door open and close and then the girls would come back in the room with whoever else was out there.

My chest rose and fell heavily with every deep breath I took. Just as I’d thought, the cellar door opened and closed, squeaking slightly. Soon they would be back. Someone was going to have to share with the new girl because there wasn’t a bed for her yet.

The bedroom door opened, and I leaped up, spinning around and pressing my back into the headboard. Violet, it was just Violet. She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “You okay?” she asked.

“No. You?”

She gulped and her eyes left me. Where were Rose, Poppy, and the new girl? “Lily, you’re not like Rose and Poppy. They’ve given up and you haven’t. I haven’t.”

I frowned. Where was this going and what was happening out there? I heard taps running and cupboards being opened. “What?” I asked, only half paying attention as I tried to figure out what was going on in the main room.

“I can’t do this anymore,” she said and climbed into her bed, turning away from me and pulling the cover over her head.

I wanted to ask her what she meant and see if she was okay, but I heard something slosh around in water and something else being sprayed vigorously. Seconds later an overpowering scent of that lemon cleaner hit me, tickling my nose and making my eyes water.

“Violet, what’re they doing?” I whispered, wide-eyed, clutching the quilt. She didn’t answer; instead, she pulled the cover up higher and I saw her body curl up beneath the quilt. I took a deep breath and looked at the door. What are they doing?





7


SUMMER